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Monthly Archives: January 2013

I can’t be the only one who feels like January has done its best Mr. Fantastic impression. Sheesh! Last week’s pile was a monster but in the end didn’t impress much. If you’re wondering, Derek and I will cover just a few of the remarkable issues from that super-sized stack in a soon-to-be released Back and Forth. This week, however, came in at a much more humble height.

Bag of Tricks

Deathmatch #2 (Went with Cover C by Trevor Harisine just ’cause it was there. Opens up well enough and looks like Jenkins and Magno are continuing their steady march toward madness. What does your bracket look like?)

Mara #2 (A-Rod, Ray Lewis–and Mara?)

Emily and the Strangers #1 (Recommended by Travis, a recent commenter. Bought it instead of Avengers #4. Looks fun!)

Emily and the Strangers #1

The Superior Spider-Man #2 (Still don’t care for Stegman’s art. Still not over the debacle that was the end of #1. I have a sneaky suspicion that it’s going to taint my experience–that I’ll dislike this issue no matter what goes down.)

Question: Which Book from Last Week Did I Decide to Pick Up?

The Answer #1 (Derek was super convincing.)

Gotta Wait For

Justice League Dark #16

Nowhere Men #3

Might not get to read any tonight; I’ve still got a thing or two to write. Darned priorities.

Like this:

Deathmatch #2 (BOOM!): #1 was a real surprise. Sure, Paul Jenkins’ name alone promises quality, but the premise seemed a bit, I don’t know, frivolous, especially with the whole Hunger Games thing already being played up–hopelessly–in Avengers Arena. I tried AA for three issues: speaking of frivolous! I have a sneaky suspicion that Deathmatch will prove its worth with #2–even with the bump in price. As Jenkins himself Tweeted to us: “I have been writing forward and by now, I’m getting the hang of the characters.” And with that promise, we’re going to hang with him.

Deathmatch #2

Justice League Dark #16 (DC): All of a sudden, it’s our only source of Frankenstein! I guess it’ll have to do.

Mara #2 (Image): Faith in Brian Wood here. In #1, he offered a pretty spiky protagonist and served up a killer cliffhanger. I’m down for #2.

Nowhere Men #3 (Image): Going somewhere, and I’m along for the ride.

Nowhere Men #3

Avengers #4 (Marvel): Whoa. Wait. I hated how #3 ended. (Seriously: if you’ve read it, you know exactly what I mean: it was all sorts of ludicrous!) How the hell did this make the cut? Oh, yeah! Opena’s art. Whoa. Wait. He’s already off the book? Next up: Adam Kubert. Yeah, I might just leave this on the counter.

Superior Spider-Man #2 (Marvel): If you read our review of #1, you’re probably wondering why I’d bother with #2. Hey, I’m totally with you: I’m still trying to work it out myself.

Let me know if there’s anything I can pick up in place of Avengers and/or Superior Spider-Man. Without them, I’ll have something left on a twenty–and I can never leave a shop with change enough for a book or two. So, it’s with them or with something else. Please save me!

Scott Carney: I kinda feel like I’m about to break the law or punch my ticket to hell or something with what I’m about to say about Batman #16 (DC);but I’m going to say it anyway because it’s my honest-to-goodness opinion, and that’s what Images and Nerds is all about; so here it goes: dude, I ain’t feelin’ it. And what I am feeling–if this qualifies as a feeling–feels forced, kind of like “How can I take a character who is so far over the top by nature–and by cinematic nurture–that even he can’t see the top anymore and make him over-the-top-er?” Maybe it has nothing to do with Snyder’s storyline at all. Maybe it has nothing to do with his take on the Joker. Maybe it has everything to do with the over-the-top expectations–especially after the revelation that was The Court of Owls arc. Well, whatever it is, Death of the Family has been decidedly underwhelming. This issue, in particular, seems to be all about the shock value–and knowingly so–all the way to the electrifying final panel of the story proper, where Batman plays the role of a Tesla plasma lamp. (He sat so quickly that he must have a trick up his sleeve–or rubber drawers on. I’m leaning toward the latter; I mean, you know he’s prepared for this; he had amazingly absorbent balls in his belt, apparently, which he used to rescue the Arkham Asylum Dancers. By the way: I did like the dancers, so it wasn’t a total disappointment!) How does Batman get there in the first place? Simple: he fights his way through a bunch of armed inmates over the course of three less-than-spectacular–more so muddled and surprisingly, for Greg Capullo, meager–pages; he “RRRAAAAAHHHH”s his way past a royally horrific–in concept, but, sadly, not in execution–tapestry depicting a history of Bat-tragedies and comprised of, umm, well, people sporting PEG-tubes, which is clearly meant to ratchet up the creepiness, all of them stitched together by the Dollman and rendered–ironically–lifelessly by Capullo and–to be fair–inker Jonathan Glapion and colorist FCO Plascencia, who collectively fail to provide the “pop” as promised while the Joker waxes nostalgic about his equal parts woeful and awful living “love letter” to Batman; he walks through three Rogues (Mr. Freeze, Clayface, and Scarecrow) with ridiculous–almost pointless–ease, as if he’s being guided expertly by some geek through yet another level in some Batman/Arkham video game, and knocking off sub-bosses on his way to the final boss, the Joker, who is flanked, unnecessarily, as it turns, by three more anemic antagonists: the Penguin, the Riddler, and Two-Face; he seems to lose his will to live after watching video footage of the members of the Bat-family getting their Bat-butts handed to them; and, finally–maybe even mercifully–he sits. Yup: that’s how it goes; and I couldn’t care less–especially since the back-up story just inexplicably continues the primary story, but with a co-writer and a different artist, who nudge the hanger back up onto the cliff for a few pages, only to confuse him by offering him another chance to test his grip. Oh no! What’s under the cloche? Come on: does it really matter what’s on the platter? Credit where credit is due: Jock’s Joker is exceedingly more terrifying than Capullo’s; and, wouldn’t you know, the story’s undeniably better, perhaps thanks to James Tynion IV’s hand in the telling. That ain’t how it should be, but that’s how it is. And here’s another “how it is”: as good as Owls was, its end was pretty darned awful. So, color my expectations low for the conclusion of this claptrap.

Derek Mainhart: Yeah, I’m completely with you here. The whole point of this seems to be Snyder turning the Joker dial up to 11. Between the human tapestry bit (which I was even less impressed with; what’re we, drawing inspiration from Human Centipede now?) and the goofy Bat-gadgets for every occasion, this whole exercise is steering dangerously close to camp. This makes Alan Moore’s The Killing Joke (its claim to definitive Joker story still unchallenged) seem positively restrained by comparison. (Perhaps such comparisons are unfair, but when your publicity machine ramps up expectations this high, they’re inevitable.)

Frankenstein: Agent of S.H.A.D.E. #16 (DC):Now here’s a book that could’ve used some publicity. (Hey, we tried.) This comic is not only the latest casualty of the New 52, but also the second Jeff Lemire-related book we’ve lost in the last couple of weeks (after the elegaicSweet Tooth). If you wanted over-the-top action mixed with a generous amount of high camp, then this book was for you (emphasis on “was“). Series writer Matt Kindt (like Lemire, an emigre from the indy world) brought a distinct, knowing sensibility to the proceedings; this was well-orchestrated chaos. That being said, this issue seemed a bit of a rush; understandable given that it’s the final issue. Still, Kindt gives fans of the book everything they’ve come to expect: arcane conspiracies, outlandish tech with ridiculous acronyms (B.I.G.F.O.O.T. – you’ll have to read it), explosive violence, and wading through it all, the tragicomic figure of Frank, equal parts determination and reluctance. Kindt frames the story from the point of view of a garden variety secret agent from Homeland Security who witnesses Frank and his fellow monsters wreak havoc upon his well-laid plans. At first I thought this was annoying, even superfluous, taking away precious space in what is, after all, a last issue. Then, at the end, said agent submits his account of the action to his superiors. They recommend he take a leave of absence. Further, they inform him they will be editing his report because it is too “…insane”. Could this be sly commentary on the book’s premature cancellation? Either way I’m saddened that this ragtag misfit of a book, like Frankenstein himself, couldn’t find a place in the world. I’ll miss Alberto Ponticelli’s visceral renditions of viscera. I’m glad to see him on Dial H, a book even odder and better than this one. I hope it doesn’t soon suffer the same fate.

Goodbye Frankenstein!

SC: Yeah, this is a major loss–not just because we’re losing a consistently clever book, but because we’re also losing another forum for the considerable talents of Matt Kindt. Was I happy with this hastily-stitched-together goodbye? Not really. While I liked Frank’s matter-of-fact well-timed bomb–“That’s why I brought explosives”– and a depressed Frank’s knowing countenance as carved out by Ponticelli in the first panel of page 11, I was put off–as you were initially, anyway–by the insinuation of Agent Martin. Unfortunately, unlike you, I wasn’t able to analyze my way toward any sort of appreciation. But, ultimately, that’s my fault and my right, right?

DM: Or maybe you’re just lazy.

SC: Luckily, Frankenstein, the character, isn’t suffering the same fate as the monthly that carried his name: according to Lemire, he’ll be a part of the “core” four of Justice League Dark. So, in a way, he’s Hrrm-ing his way home.

DM: JLD? Color me less than excited.

SC: But if you like your heroes big and green, they don’t come much bigger or greener than the big green guy in Indestructible Hulk #3 (Marvel). What a smash hit this series has been through its first three issues! Looks like Mark Waid has found another perfect partner in Leinil Yu. But while Chris Samnee, Waid’s daring better half on DD, finds success in humorous subtlety, Yu is all about power–both the potential for and the expression of. The Hulk’s rage has never been captured as well as when Yu unleashes it in massive splashes–in this case, two ridiculously outrageous splashes: one, page 13, will be a classic rendering of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s newest W.M.D.; and two, page 23, Hulk’s Shining moment: Heeeeeere’s Hulkie! Great stuff. But that’s all fluff compared to my favorite part of the book: I mean, I could be wrong, but it looks like Waid’s taking a page from the prescription pad of television’s recently retired Dr. House. By building a team of quirky scientists around Banner, Waid is, like Yu, playing with potential: the door is now open for witty dialogue–one of Waid’s strengths–and complex human interaction, which will most assuredly balance out–or, more likely, outclass–the inevitable monster moments that may tend to ring hollow no matter how spectacular the visuals are. (See Bendis’s Miles-heavy issues of Ultimate Spider-Man for the ultimate example of secret identities besting their costumed alter-egos when it comes to compelling narratives.) And even though the final few panels petered out with an all-too-familiar–and much too goofy–punch to the gob of R.O.B.–a silly Skeets wannabe and instantly obsolete version of a monitoring device assigned to Banner–this is the superhero book I’m most excited about right now.

Indestructible Hulk #3 Cover

DM: From superheroes to the supernatural: Rachel Rising#13 (Abstract Studio).Okay, so I’m late to this party. But I’ve been hearing the accolades (not to mention your constant badgering, Scott), so I gave in and picked up the first trade. Then the second. And now I’m picking up the single issues, such is my craving for this unholy thing. And unholy really is the word. Creator Terry Moore (of Strangers in Paradise fame) has concocted an intoxicating brew of simmering supernatural suspense set against the seemingly quaint town of (the tellingly named) Manson. The story follows Rachel, a young woman who was recently murdered, and who has since, inexplicably, risen from the grave. Not quite alive, not quite dead, Rachel searches for answers behind her death and current state. She doesn’t have to search very far though, because the answers are also looking for her.

The story has a leisurely, atmospheric pace, with entire passages told wordlessly, that owes something to manga. But the narrative itself is firmly rooted in Americana. Rachel’s predicament has some connection to horrific witch trials that took place in Manson 300 years past. Biblical figures (who often play an outsize role in the American imagination) such as the Devil (or a devil) and Lilith are invoked. And then there’s that most American of fiends (judging from TV and movies), the serial killer.

The current issue (13, how apropos) widens the scope of the mythology with the inclusion of Charles Perrault and the “true” story of Sleeping Beauty (you’ll never look at the fairy tale the same way again). Meanwhile Lilith’s dread agents begin putting her nasty plan for the town in motion, in revenge for the witch trials. The reader may ask, as Rachel does in an earlier issue, what relevance could such long ago events have on the present? In fact, one of Moore’s themes is the insidious way acts of violence reverberate down through history. Furthermore, the type of violence he’s exploring is specifically, intimately, brutally, violence against women. Just a cursory glance at our world of honor killings and gang rape will show that this theme could hardly have more currency.

Sound too heavy? In lesser hands it might be. But Moore displays a light touch; first in his art, with its delicate interplay of line and texture, positive and negative space, and perfectly balanced use of black and white (I wouldn’t want to see a color version of this book). And, just as importantly, in the relationships of his characters: the warmth, resiliency and wry humor of Rachel’s makeshift family, so reminiscent of Strangers in Paradise, offers a refreshing, necessary tonic to all of the awful things that happen to them.

As I said, I’m late to this party. But, as Rachel herself is ample proof of, better late than never. Needless to say, Book of the Week. And one of the best books being published period.

Like this:

Big week, that’s for sure. Ended up with fourteen books. Here they are in the order they came out of the bag:

Bedlam #3 (Still a We’ll see. I’m hoping Spencer continues to plunge deeper than a dagger into the heart of evil.)

Bedlam #3

Harbinger #8 (It’s been good from the get-go, but even better of late.)

X-O Manowar #9 (Planet Death? Sounds welcoming.)

Avengers #3 (Opena’s art’s the draw for me through three issues now. I hope Hickman can catch up; otherwise…)

Battlefields: The Green Fields Beyond #3 (Simply great–or just made to look that way by Garth Ennis.)

Mind MGMT #7 (New story arc, same gorgeous art. Not reading it? Why not? It’s so different from anything you’re reading right now. And it just feels different in the hand, you know? No, you don’t know. Ugh! Get with the program, man! Pick it up and see for yourself!)

Batwoman #16 (Wowowowowowowowow! Haven’t read it, but turned to and stared at every spread, every page, every panel–when there were panels, anyway. Yeah, Williams III more than makes up for last month. Unbelievable. I’m actually thinking that I should just bag the damn thing. Reading it might ruin it.)

Batwoman #16 Cover

Revival #6 (Found #5 to be a bit underwhelming. Judging this issue by the cover alone, I’m like Sew what? Heh.)

Revival #6 Cover

Stumptown #5 (I don’t even have the first 3! The combo of Rucka and Southworth is that compelling. They’re in a groove not unlike the one carved out by Brubaker and Phillips. Not to be passed up. Someone find me the first 3!)

FF #3 (Wonder how long I’ll stick with this.)

TMNT: The Secret History of the Foot Clan #2 (#1 was a pleasant surprise from Mateus Santolouco. Wouldn’t you know that I’m actually looking forward to this one. In fact, I had to visit my mistress–the other shop, for those of you who haven’t been following my extra-comical exploits–in order to score it.)

And the only one I wasn’t planning on picking up:

Young Avengers #1 (The buzz is so big it hit me as soon as I walked into the shop. Flipped through it. Figured What the hell?)

Young Avengers #1 Cover

Time to find some time. Otherwise, I’ll be sitting on this pile for a while.

Mind MGMT #7: Yeah, I’ve been fiending for this one. Matt Kindt is making magic with this book, our #3 comic of 2012. If you haven’t already, jump on now. The trade to cover what you’ve missed, however, won’t be out for a while.

Mind MGMT #7 Cover

Avengers #3: It’s been barely good enough to deserve another four bucks. The first two, for goodness sake, ended in pretty much the same manner. Someone had to have noticed, right?

FF #3: I’m not too sure how much longer I’ll stick with this one, either. If Fraction keeps writing to Allred’s strengths, maybe I’ll stick around for a while.

TMNT: Secret History of the Foot Clan #2: The first one was a bit of a surprise: the story sucked me right in; it didn’t matter that I hadn’t picked up a Turtles book in almost thirty years. (Geez. Has it really been that long?) Credit to Mateus Santolouco and Erik Burnham for crafting an engaging story–one entertaining enough to warrant another trip to the What’s Up? list.

Winter Soldier #15: Ed Brubaker’s final issue. Mine, too.

Bedlam #3: Feels like it’s been a while, right? I may have to skim #2 to refresh.

Revival #6: #5 was a bit of a drop off. I hope it picks up again.

Batwoman #16: Last month was a disappointment, mostly because I wasn’t expecting another artist to hop in mid-arc. Big-time bummer. Everything I’ve read leading up to this week says to expect Williams III; so expect I shall–just not blindly.

Wonder Woman #16: Nothing too remarkable of late, but still better than most–especially when Cliff Chiang’s on art duties.

Stumptown #5: #4 was a classic. No, really. And, wouldn’t you know, I don’t even have 1-3!

Scott Carney: Two pages in, I knew that Change #2 (Image) would be my favorite book of the week. This trippy little thing is big on bouncing to the beat of an earlier generation. Oh, we’re on a road, all right; I’m just not entirely sure where that road–or where writer Ales Kot–is taking us, and I’m pretty sure that Google Maps isn’t going to help me. And, you know what? That aspect, which could easily be a deal breaker, is actually one of the endearing qualities of this enigmatic issue–along with the poetry that pulses like poisoned blood through the veins of the sharply shifting vignettes, which all lead back, apparently, to the newly-revealed lungs of the book: New Atlantis. Another draw comes in the form of the fresh characters, whom I still hardly know two issues into the series, but about whom I care more than the hopeless heroes of of the Avengers Arena and more than the trite assemblage of assassins in the frivolous Thunderbolts. (Each of those NOW! titles is now a THEN! That’s right: El Droppo. Would you say I’ve dropped a plethora of books?) Sure, yeah, I felt lost; but isn’t that what I’m supposed to feel? (Isn’t that what the characters feel?) Damn it! Isn’t that what I want? Isn’t that what I’m paying for? For an escape from the grind? For a change of pace? Appropriately, “YESSSSssss.”

Derek Mainhart: I agree that this is one idiosyncratic little book. The analogy you make to beat poetry is good one; this book has an evocative, rambling cadence that seems as much the point as the actual events that take place (whatever they are). The experience of reading an experimental, seemingly stream-of-conscious work like this can be an engaging, highly personal one. Like beat poetry, I appreciate the unorthodox immediacy of it (not to mention Morgan Jeske’s Paul Pope-inflected artwork). But it is simply not my groove. (Or maybe between this, Fatale and Locke and Key, I’ve just reached my quotient of Lovecraft-inspired comics.)

The Superior Spider-Man#1 (Marvel)

Speaking of change, this was billed as a BIG one. As regular readers are aware, I’m among those who are appalled by Spidey’s recent history. So when the rumors started flying about this book’s premise, I started picking up Amazing Spider-Man again for the first time in years. And I have to say, I was intrigued by Dan Slott’s story: having ol’ Doc Ock mind-swap with Peter Parker, then letting Parker die in Ock’s enfeebled body did, in fact, feel like a shake-up of the status quo. Letting a megalomaniac muck about in the life of an icon seemed to have potential (It says volumes about the mess Marvel’s made of Peter Parker that killing him could actually improve the book). So I was on board. And for the first twenty-one pages I was not disappointed (SPOILERS!): Doctor Spider-Pus fighting the new Sinister Six, not so much out of moral obligation but because he’s indignant that they’re sullying his legacy. Then, in true supervillain fashion, he defeats them by leading them into a meticulously prepared, elaborate deathtrap. With great ego, it would seem, comes great responsibility. That ego is again on display in a scene in which the brilliant Doctor starts fraying at the edges with the knowledge that all of his future accomplishments will be credited to Peter. And finally, in the best sequence in the book, Otto Parktavius goes on a date with Petey’s beloved Mary Jane. In a hilarious tour de lettering, Otto’s self-absorbed narration is “pasted” over MJ’s dialogue while he blithely ogles her (I assume this was Slott’s decision, but kudos to letterer Chris Eliopoulos anyway for an effect I’ve never quite seen before). Ryan Stegman’s aggressive artwork, all sharp angles, blocky shadows and speed-lines, perfectly matched the irreverent tone of a story that held the promise of deconstructing super-hero tropes by turning them on their head (not that this is Watchmen or anything, but there is a gleeful audacity in doing this sort of thing to Spider-Man).

And then page twenty-two. Who should show up to ruin the fun? Why, Peter Parker of course! (or his ghost, or whatevyawn…) Now, I’m not naive; we’re talking about a super-hero comic. Of course Peter’s coming back. Nobody stays dead, silly! But so soon? The first issue of the much hoopla-ed big change? Maybe it was Slott’s plan all along, but this reeks of corporate hand-wringing: God forbid Peter Parker doesn’t appear in a Spider-Man comic for even one issue. (Slott even goes to the extent of having Petey verbalize the Game Plan: “I am Peter Parker. And I swear I will find a way BACK!“) Never mind that this retroactively robs AMS #700 of even the illusion of poignancy less than a month after its publication; in one fell swoop, an edgy, promising, even satirical premise has been rendered safe, predictable and pedestrian – the very opposite of a change in status quo. I, for one, am not looking forward to watching Peter play Lily Tomlin to Otto’s Steve Martin. (Name That Reference! Win a prize!) I haven’t been this deflated by an ending since A.I. Artificial Intelligence.

SC: Yeah. Me, too! No, really: you took the web right out of my shooter. But I–may I vent? Come on! They couldn’t’ve given us three issues–just three issues!–to savor this stroke of genius. No, sir! Gosh, I wish I were a spider on the wall during the pitches and the planning and any of the other processes that led to–to–this! I mean, seriously: was this Slott’s plan all along? Was there some directive from on high to not let this linger too long? I’ll tell you what I wasn’t thinking after reading the page that shall remain numberless: Oh boy, I can’t wait to see how Peter comes back! So, yeah, it’s quite possible that as quickly as they won me over, they’ve lost me. I’m not too sure how far I’ll follow this not-so-superior turn.

OK, then, well, really speaking of change (you’d think it’s a theme or something): a big change is coming for one of our favorite titles. And, it’s a bag-shattering change, too. That’s right: Scott Snyder’s almost done with his run on Swamp Thing(DC); so I guess that means I’m almost done with my run, too. Aye, and it was a good one.

DM: Yeah, talk about change you can’t believe in. It really is a shame; with issue 16, Snyder has recaptured some of the aura of the first year of the book. The extended build-up to the current Rotworld storyline distinguished itself with a steady baseline of unease, intermittently punctuated by surreal spasms of horror (especially when rendered with skin-crawling effectiveness by sometimes-series artist, Yanick Paquette). The series began to lose a little mojo with the introduction of Anton Arcane as the villain of the piece. The terror went from chillingly existential to almost cartoonish super-villainy (Anton would twirl his mustache if he had a face.) When Rotworld kicked into high gear a few months ago, the book seemed to further strain under the expectations of “epic” storytelling. But here Snyder once again hits his stride with a tale split between the struggle of the past to prevent the nightmarish present. The two strands also serve as emotional counterpoint, traversing the oh-so-short distance between hope and despair. In the (alternate?) present, Swamp Thing valiantly struggles to save, not the world, nor reality itself, but the only thing that matters to him in the end; his love, Abigail. More’s the pity then that Abigail’s quest in the past seemingly renders Swampy’s heroics utterly futile. This is the stuff of tragedy–and of terror: without giving too much away, let’s just say that when Snyder promises a shock (unlike Superior Spider-Man), he doesn’t back down.

Only two more issues of Snyder and Paquette? Now that’s tragic.

SC: Hell yeah it is! But, come on: do you really think Abigail’s gone for good? I have a sneaky suspicion that Mr. Thing is going to use some of his bio-restorative formula to bring her back to life–to some form of life, maybe even as a Swamp Thingess. That’d be a fitting finale, wouldn’t it: another out-of-step ending for the otherwise superior Scott Snyder. (See the end of his Batman: Court of Owls arc if you don’t believe me.)

Moving on, I’m willing to admit it: I’ve changed my mind about Shadowman (Valiant) with #3. A little background: I don’t have any background with Shadowman as a book or as a character. I figured I’d give it a whirl since Valiant’s revamp was 4-for-4 with two home runs (Archer & Armstrong and Harbinger) and two triples (X-O Manowar and Bloodshot). The first issue really didn’t do it for me, and I pretty much called it quits there. Then, during a trip to a more well-stocked shop than my home base, I saw #2 and decided to pick it up because I had a few bucks left over. (Yeah, I’m still working on the whole willpower thing. Getting better, though!) I still wasn’t too taken by it. Flash forward to another trip to my shop on the side: the proprietor offered up #3 as one of his favorite covers of the week. Yup. That was enough for me. And wouldn’t you know: I really liked it: I finally bought Mr. Twist as a terrifying villain. I dug the descent into the Deadside; more specifically I was taken–along with Jack–by Jaunty, the talking monkey with the sweet hat and the sweeter Cajun ‘tude. I appreciated the obvious allusion to King Arthur: Jack, in this case recognizing his responsibility, his destiny, draws the scythe from the shadow and becomes the new Shadowman. And with that, Justin Jordan and Patrick Zircher have earned a new Shadowfan. Bring on the big baddie: bring on Master Darque!

DM: And finally (and finally), Sweet Tooth #40 (DC/Vertigo), a book that’s all about change. Throughout it’s run this book has always seemed an odd, at times ill-fitting addition to the post-apocalyptic literary landscape. Jeff Lemire’s take on the end of man seemed to lack the visceral drive of The Walking Dead, the gravitas of I Am Legend, or the pointed political commentary of Y: The Last Man (to name but a few well-known exemplars of the genre). The story seemed to have a narrow focus: the young hybrid boy/deer, Gus and his grizzled protector, Jepperd fight to survive against malevolent pursuers, endlessly chasing them through the woods, determined to discover the mystery of Gus’ creation and, they hope, the key to mankind’s survival. And though the cast expanded, the scope of the narrative was never itself expansive in the way stories like this generally are. The same, however, cannot be said of the art. Nobody does desolate landscapes like Lemire (praise must also be heaped upon series colorist par excellence, Jose Villarrubia, he of the muted earth tones and washed out firmament). The setting and spare nature of much of the writing created a lyrical tone of atmosphere and ache. This restrained aesthetic, which is Lemire at his best (see Essex County) is ultimately what separates this book from the rest of the genre. In fact, with its devotion to craft, the work it most resembles is perhaps Cormac McCarthy’s The Road. Both are about fathers and sons (a recurring theme in Lemire’s work, from The Underwater Welder to Animal Man). And both find hope in the passing of the torch to the next generation. But whereas McCarthy’s hope is a flickering candle in unremittant darkness, Lemire’s is a bonfire of celebration. Though the territory covered by the series may not have broad, this generous, and alas, final issue is expansive in perhaps its most important measure: its heart. Book of the Week. Good Night, Sweet Tooth.

Like this:

I did it! I stuck to my guns–and may have broken the law in the process! Go, New York, go!

Bag! You’re it!

Batman #16 (Looks good. Also looks like one of the horses from HBO’s cursed–and canceled–series, Luck, has found some work after being fired from that show. Someone call the ASPCA! Get PETA on the line! More important: call Liffey Meats! That’s right: I follow current events. All of them.)

Frankenstein: Agent of S.H.A.D.E. #16 (I peeked at the end, and sadly that’s just what I saw: “The End.” I knew it, sure; but now I know it. Doesn’t make it any easier.)

Not a big week; not a small week; but certainly a solid week; and I’ll take a solid week any day of the week–well, on Wednesday, mostly, unless, of course, I can’t shop hop; and then it is, quite literally, any day of the week–well, in this particular scenario, any day other than Wednesday. I hope to snag:

All A-Bag!

Batman #16: Nowadays, I feel like I’m picking up Batman because, you know, I’m supposed to: because it’s Snyder, mostly. Believe me: I don’t want to cave in; I don’t want to drop it. I mean, it’d be a Batshame if I weren’t picking up a montly Batbook, right? But this arc ain’t grabbing me the same way The Court of Owls did–until the broken wing of an ending, that is.

Frankenstein: Agent of S.H.A.D.E. #16: The “final issue finale.” Typing about effing shames: this is a terrible loss: a our #6 book of 2012 tossed to the garbage pile, crushed by the Third Wave! I guess we’ll be seeing the grandiloquent greenie as a regular over on JLD. Better than nothing. As far as Kindt’s concerned: sucks to lose out on another opportunity to enjoy his work; but there’s always the brilliant Mind MGMT (our #3 book of 2012, by the way), which is back next week, thank goodness.

Daredevil #22: The Superior Spider-Man makes a visit to Hell’s Kitchen. As long as Peter keeps to himself, I’m willing to get into the swing.

Indestructible Hulk #3: I like what Waid’s doing here. Heck, I like what Waid’s doing everywhere!

Archer & Armstrong #6: Big week for fellas named Armstrong, eh?

Bloodshot #7: This book’s been really good of late. Kudos to Swierczynski, who’s killing it.

No plans to hit the rack this week.

Oh, yeah: Derek threatened to ban me from the blog if I pick up Captain America #3. So, keep an eye out: if you don’t see me for a while, it’s because I had enough money left over but not enough willpower to let that red, white, and blue nonsense lie.

Who doesn’t love a good fight? David Vs. Goliath! Rocky Vs. Drago! Lindsay Lohan Vs. Dignity! Comic books are replete with these classic donnybrooks, from the sublime (Superman Vs. Muhammad Ali) to the atrocious (Avengers Vs. X-Men). In that spirit, we present this weeks selections in a manner befitting the tenor of our times: steel-cage death-match! (Because, as we all know, art IS a competition!)

The Helter-Skelter Weight Bout: Dark Shadows #11 Vs. Fatale #11

Dark Shadows#11 (Dynamite): A relative unknown and the clear underdog in this match, going up against our #5 pick for the Top Books of 2012. But don’t underestimate this book – it’s got plenty of (ahem) bite! Both books involve occult forces, demonic possession and children in grave peril. But only this one has a werewolf in a cheap suit! Writer Mike Raight packs in plot twists aplenty, befitting the series’ soap operatic origins. But he wisely keeps the camp to a minimum, instead delivering genuine chills and moments of pathos. Guiu Vilanova’s art is properly moody and atmospheric. And how could you resist Francesco Francavilla’s classic cover, rendered in a style I like to call 1970s Gothic (and dedicated to Jonathan Frid, no less)? To all of this add not one, but TWO cliffhangers, and you’ve got one helluva horror book. (DM)

Fatale #11 (Image): I’ll tell you: I couldn’t be more thrilled by the fact that Ed Brubaker “started having ideas for more stories within this world” of Fatale because he hooked me hard–or maybe it was Josephine after all–and a limited series would’ve left me standing on the tracks like poor Officer Nelson. Poor Officer Nelson, indeed: I love how he’s left stepping toward the tracks as the narrative shifts to Jo’s meeting with “the writer,” Alfred Ravenscoft. His satanic tale of of innocence obliterated leaves Jo with more questions than answers, which leads her to push Alfred toward an audience with his mysterious, and ultimately monstrous, mother–and the book’s audience toward another Alfred and his mother: Hitchcock’s murderous matriarch from the classic thriller Psycho. Jo gets her meeting, but it doesn’t go as she had planned. Her escape lays the track for a terrific transition: as she speeds past a railroad crossing in search of an end to the madness, we come to find Officer Nelson, who’s looking to catch the next train in order to find an end of his own. Unfortunately for him, he’s “saved” by a few fellas who are in hot pursuit of Jo–including a couple bespectacled brutes with whom we’re far too familiar. At the end of the story, we’re left hanging with Alfred–only we’re still able to beg for more. All told, Fatale #11 is a perfectly constructed one-shot; in fact, it’s more than just a one-shot: it’s a damned deadly derringer. And with it, looks like the aforementioned Brubaker, Sean Phillips, and Dave Stewart are aiming to have their ticket to next year’s top ten punched plenty early. As one of the conductors of this little blog, I’m almost inclined to do it! Or maybe–just maybe–it’s Josephine, after all… (SC)

This one’s closer than you might think, but the winner (and Book of the Week): Fatale

Courtney Crumrin #8 (Oni): A couple of youngsters from our Junior Division, but what these two lack in experience, they make up for in chutzpah! Both series center around their teenage protagonists coming of age. Both feature fathers (or in this case father figures) who are not what their children thought they were. And both balance personal drama against a backdrop of conspiracy. Here, Courtney is on the run from her beloved Uncle Aloysius who just happens to be the most powerful wizard in her supernatural world. Creator Ted Naifeh nicely portrays Courtney’s world turned on its head as this once cocksure waif realizes how much she’d depended on her uncle and how his seeming betrayal has left her utterly lost. Her confusion and alienation mesh well with the larger story of adult compromise and corruption. Courtney’s world is getting more complicated and dangerous. Like the subtle color palette (employed by Warren Wucinich over Naifeh’s darkly expressive art) there are a lot of shades of grey. Naifeh’s compelling story depicts Courtney experiencing that common tragedy we all go through: becoming an adult. (DM)

Ultimate Spider-Man #19 (Marvel): OK. You know how when your wife invites your mother-in-law over for a a couple of days and you’re not super thrilled about it, and you put up with it because, technically, you love your wife enough to deal with the–supposedly–short stay? Yeah, that’s pretty much it–only it’s Venom who’s invading USM for Bendis knows how long. Sure, Miles and Ganke are always good together, like Huck Finn and Tom Sawyer; and the intrigue surrounding Miles’ dad is, well, intriguing. I even enjoyed J. Jonah Jameson’s defense of our post-Parker Spidey. But the insinuation of Venom just doesn’t do it for me. Sara Pichelli and Justin Ponsor’s splash on page 11, a startling disappointment considering their combined talents, pretty well sums the issue up for me: lackluster. No, it’s not awful, like most of the United We Stand nightmare; it’s just, well, what it is. Next please. (SC)

Courtney Crumrin has Aloysius, a cross between Albus Dumbledore and Edgar Winter. Ultimate Spider-Man has Venom. The winner: Courtney Crumrin

The Maim Event: Bravest Warriors #3 Vs.Colder #3

Bravest Warriors #3 (kaboom!): What are these two doing in the same match? Well, for one thing, in a coincidence of Jungian proportions, BOTH feature a demonic presence bursting violently out of someone’s body! See for yourself:

Scenes like this do raise the question of why Bravest Warriors, as part of the kaboom! line of books, is being marketed to children. Not that there’s anything truly objectionable, but the animated series is being touted more for adults. There is a vibe (and occasional risque joke) in both versions that suggests “Not for Kids”. I get that it’s part of the Adventure Time brand, but it IS odd seeing the “Cartoon Hangover” masthead on the cover of what is ostensibly a childrens’ comic. Griping aside, this comic has Adventure Time’s patented tone of adrenalized slackerdom down pat; if anything, Bravest Warriors takes itself even less seriously. Writer Joey Comeau keeps the action and jokes coming at a furious pace. Mike Holmes’ art is the perfect compliment, staying within the Adventure Time “house style” while composing dynamic panels (see above) that highlight the bizarre story. Speaking of which, with this issue’s unrelenting sad-zombie-clowns, and last issue featuring Danny vomiting live spiders(!!!) this story line is like my 5-year-old nightmare from Hell. Add in the genuine laughs and this book can only be described as: hysterrifying. (DM)

Colder #3 (Dark Horse): Unlike Fatale, this series is probably better off that it’s limited to five issues. The first issue was ice–with Paul Tobin’s inspired insanity and Juan Ferreyra’s stunning artwork–until Declan declares that “it’s time [he and Reece] had a talk.” That worried me a bit; it seemed like a sure misstep into sanity. The second issue had some bone-rattling moments, for sure–especially thanks to the perpetually frozen Ferreyra. Unfortunately, I wasn’t so taken by Declan’s declarations–and there were many of them. So, #3–well, at least we’re over the hump! The creative team kicks things off well enough with a certifiably crazy contest of hide and seek, punctuated by Nimble Jack’s aforementioned shedding of someone else’s skin in an effort to win the game. Inspired! After that, however, the book babbles along, albeit beautifully, at a glacial pace. Yup: Declan’s a drag. But a bunch of arms dragging Reece through the roof of a taxi? Now, that’s what I call ceiling the deal! The odds of my missing #4? Absolute zero. (SC)

One of these books is a horrific descent into madness. The other is Colder. The winner: Bravest Warriors

Battle of the Sexes!: Fury: My War Gone By #8 Vs. Adventure Time with Fionna & Cake #1

Adventure Time with Fionna and Cake #1(kaboom!): What do these books have in common? Absolutely nothing! They couldn’t be more polar opposites! Let’s pit the grizzled, one-eyed war veteran against the little girl with the magic puppy and see what happens! Like Bravest Warriors, this book is an extension of kaboom!’s successful Adventure Time franchise. Inspired by the fan-favorite gender-switching episode, this series puts a girl’s spin on what is ostensibly a boy’s enterprise. And, like that episode, it pulls it off with panache. Written and illustrated by Natasha Allegri (who also works on the show), the story doesn’t take the easy route of having its female characters appear strong simply by acting like boys. Instead, the characters are imbued with recognizably feminine personalities (especially the irrepressible Cake) without sacrificing one whit of action or humor. Indeed, Allegri begins the book with a story-within-a-story that, in a few brief pages, achieves the grandeur of myth. She then abruptly shifts tone toward the everyday low-brow (de rigueur for Adventure Time). She never loses sight of the fairy-tale wonder of her story, however, and her expansive lay-outs imbue the proceedings with a larger-than-life quality to match. The result? Out of all the books in Adventure Time‘s growing family of titles, this one feels the most EPIC. (DM)

Fury: My War Gone By #8(Marvel): Fionna and Cake vs. Fury and Castle? That seems fair. As I mentioned in my In Scott’s Bag post, I l-o-v-e the first page. Goran Parlov’s splash carries quite a message: war ain’t black and white, brother; it’s shades–maybe fifty of ’em, but who’s counting–of gray shrapnel shredding men to pieces. The narration casts a darker shadow, indeed, as the book’s–and Fury’s–antagonist explains–while Parlov shows–how Fury and Castle fell foolishly into his Viet Cong clutches. And that’s just the first two pages! As the story unfolds, General Ennis orders up an assault of ethical dilemmas and uncomfortable truths, all conveyed through perfectly calibrated conversations and culminating uncompromisingly in a multi-layered and minacious cliffhanger. Will Fury do Giap’s bidding in order to end the war? Will Castle do whatever it takes to keep the war from ending? Will the Americans blow them all to hell? Will Ms. Defabio blow them all to…? Well, speaking of cliffs: the most memorable moment: Castle tosses a wounded enemy soldier off a cliff to test a potential escape route. Fury concedes, “Not much of a splash.” Castle replies, “No. Only one way this can go now.” And what a way it is. (SC)

Finally, given our premise, I’d be remiss if I didn’t at least mention the following:

(written by Martin Powell with art by Terry Beatty)

Is it Shakespeare? No, it’s Popeye beating up Martians. If the concept alone (or the cover by Ray Dillon) isn’t enough to make you giddy with excitement then we is emenies and I challenges you to steel-cage fiskicuffs.

Like this:

Two stops at two shops in an hour webbed me a sticky stack. Yeah, it’s true, believers: I can’t just say, “No.” Sorry, Nancy.

Baggadocio

Action Comics #16 (“The Second Death of Superman,” eh? You know what? I’m going to forgive him the title. For now, anyway–until I realize I have to praise him for it, of course.)

Animal Man #16 (Thumbed through. We’ll see.)

Dial H #8 (David Lapham had a surprisingly solid turn. Alberto Ponticelli brings something a smidgen more malleable to the page. His style is closer to that of original artist Mateus Santolouco, but isn’t quite there–yet.)